Hetalian Superpowers!
by SakuraNeChan
Summary: With Arthur's birthday nearing, one would expect nothing less of a party. But England has a lot more in surprise than just a party; though it was thanks to a certain nosy American. What happens next becomes more than Arthur could have ever expected. DISCONTINUED for now. I have no idea what I should do next & I am occupied with other fanfiction on another website.


**Around The World In Eighty Minutes**

Rating: PG-13

-For Language and Violence

*The following story will contain Yaoi. Please do prohibit yourselves from reading this story if you do not like/support yaoi. There will not be yuri, as far as known, in the story's future. If the story shall ever have yuri, please do also prohibit yourselves from reading this story if you do not like/support yuri. If you hate/dislike both, please leave and do not bash on those who do like/support yaoi/yuri or this story. If you do like/support yaoi/yuri, then I do hope you enjoy this story. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. Thank you for reading and PLEASE DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, AS IT IS ILLEGAL AND IF WORD REACHES OUT TO ME THAT PLAGIARISM OF MY STORIES HAS OCCURRED, I MAY END UP TAKING DOWN MY STORIES. Also, I will not upload my stories often due to school and other stuff. Not all of my chapters will contain so many words. Please do excuse me for long updates; if you want me to upload more often than I already am, REVIEW, FOLLOW, & FAVORITE.

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_His birthday._

_That was all he could think about right now. His birthday. But alas, it was not such an occasion that he, England, would ever do as much as to care or even joyfully announce such an event. No. That was not the reason why he was so joyful—no, ecstatic afar as to the fact that his centenary was arriving. A miracle. Yes, that was it. A spectacular discovery that he, a grand power in Europe in the name of Her Majesty, had found. Alas, it was a masterpiece; a fine piece of creation. But even the bubbling excitement seeping his heart, Arthur Kirkland could do nothing more than grin silently as he watched, doing naught but just watching awaiting as the leaves fell day by day, counting down the clock. His emerald green eyes gleamed as it hid underneath his dark shroud, and to all who passed by, he was no more than that of a simple commoner, a mystery to all, strolling along the towns._

* * *

"Merci, ma belle. ("Thank you, my lovely") Toujours aussi enchanteresse que jamais, hein mademoiselle? ("Still as enchanting as ever, eh mademoiselle?") Vous êtes une rose, si belle et pure ("You are a rose, so beautiful and pure") Même si vous êtes au travail, je ne peux toujours pas résister à la beauté vous donnez à vous-même, ma dame," ("Even though you are at work, I still cannot resist the loveliness you bestow upon yourself, my lady") France grinned, sending a seductive smile at his mistress, who blushed furiously after collecting his mail and bowed continuously, stammering all the while.

"Ah-merci monsieur ("Ah-thank you monsieur."). Vous êtes trop gentil (You are too kind."). Mais cela ne devrait pas s'appliquer à moi, maître,"("But that should not apply to me, master.") the mistress flustered, before excusing herself to her other important duties. Francis Bonnefoy chuckled to himself inaudibly as he watched his cream-haired baffled mistress stagger away, her creamy complexion turning a dark shade of red as she left. Ladies, ladies, ladies. They could never get enough of the enchanting charmer Francis, could they? Why, of course not, for no other nation possessed such natural beauty as he did, no? It was amazing how they never changed. Anyone would have thought that after several hundred years, that they would change, but aucun ("no"), they were still the same; such little change in their wandering, young hearts. But then again, who could resist the lovely Francis Bonne-

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?! Une invitation? De l'Angleterre!" ("What is this?! An invite? From England?!") France whispered in alarm. _Angleterre ("England") never sends me an invite to such things! And certainly not to such a party! Surely, this must be a trap…but who am I to reject such a lovely invite?! For once, Angleterre ("England") does have good taste…although it is only in a provocation. Well, good to see he has not changed…after all, the insults he sends me are quite…discourteous. Ah~ this occasion calls for some lovely scented roses from my finest gardens! Though Angelterre will not be thrilled about this…such a perfect plan to convince him to throw another one of his tantrum fits, no?_ France thought as he hummed a soft love tune.

"Maître, êtes-vous tout à fait bien?" ("Master, are you quite alright?") the cream-haired mistress questioned Francis, as she was the first to arrive to his sudden outburst.

"Oui, oui, l'amour. Ne vous inquiétez pas votre jolie tête maintenant, oui?" ("Yes, yes, love. Do not worry your lovely head now, yes?") France smiled, winking at the concerned mistress, who quickly turned a dark shade of red, and not a second as those words left his lips, was he bombarded by a mob of mistresses, all shouting over one another.

"Maître! Maître! Dites-moi, êtes-vous d'accord?" ("Master! Master! Tell me, are you alright?")

"Puis-je faire quelque chose pour vous de guérir la douleur, Maître? S'il vous plaît permettez-moi de vous guérir!" ("May I do anything for you to heal the pain, Master? Please allow me to heal you!")

"Ah—"

"Maître, est-ce que je peut faire pour vous aider? Ce qui vous a crié?" ("Master, is there anything I may do to assist you? Whatever made you scream?")

"Maître, s'il vous plaît sourire, voulez-vous? Je vous promets de soulager tous vos problèmes." ("Master, please smile, will you? I promise I will relieve all of your troubles.")

"B—"

"Il est de mon devoir de prendre soin de Maître, n'est-ce pas!" ("It is my job to care for Master, not you!")

"Non, il n'est pas! Il est de mon devoir de prendre soin de Maître, n'est-ce pas, vous dégoûtant-" ("No, it is not! It is my job to care for Master, not you, you disgusting-")

"Wh—"

"Regarde, salope, tais-toi salope! C'est mon métier et-" ("Look, bitch, keep your slutty mouth shut! That is my job and-")

"Oh non, vous n'avez pas! Qui est celui qui porte un costume de banane, hein?" ("Oh no, you don't! Who's the one wearing a banana suit, eh?")

"Va te faire foutre, petit possessif peu-" ("Fuck off, you little possessive little-")

"Moi? Moi possessif? Vous êtes les putes possessif, sans-" ("Me? Me possesive? You guys are the possesive whores, not-")

"La—"

"Si quelqu'un ici est digne de présence du Maître, c'est moi, non? Pour la beauté n'en peut dépasser la mienne." ("If anyone here is worthy of Master's presence, it is I, no? For none's beauty can surpass mine.")

"Qu'avez-vous dit?! ("What did you say?!")

"Soin de répéter que, salope? Je suis digne de Maître, n'est-ce pas-" ("Care to repeat that, bitch? I am worthy of Master, not you-")

"Tous les enculés vous m'avez bien entendu!" ("All you fuckers heard me!")

"Mademoiselles, s'il vous plaît calmer- ("Ladies, please calm-") France attempted, as the ladies' shrieks shrilled even higher.

"Maître est à moi, et aucun de vous ne peut l'avoir!" ("Master is mine, and none of you can have him!")

"Excusez-moi, salope salope! Correction: il est à moi!" ("Excuse me, you slutty bitch?! Correction: he is mine!")

"Quoi? Depuis quand es-tu à lui?! Vous êtes vachement laid, il ne serait jamais-" ("What?! Since when are you his?! You're so fucking ugly, he would never-")

"Regarde, leech, va te faire foutre et embrasser une grenouille! Monseiur Francis m'aime!" ("Look, leech, go fuck yourself and kiss a frog! Monseiur Francis loves me!")

Francis rubbed his head in annoyance, merely giving up at an attempt to calm the horrible atmosphere, as a majority of his mistresses argued and threatened to rip each others' heads off. He sighed as he drank from his tea, admiring yet loathing the possessiveness his mistresses contained as they each claimed him theirs. Then again, what should he have expected? His mistresses lined up, one by one, smiling and behaving lovingly towards him without a hint of jealousy? He would be surprised if they could even get along together for an hour with argument. But then again, this whole charade of arguing and screaming was basically a daily basis in his mansion, though it was not one that he admired so much.

"Euh ... Maître? Voulez-vous du thé?" ("Um...Master? Would you like more tea?") the cream-haired mistress shakily questioned, her face masking a porcelain doll, horror and shock evading her features. And he had to admit, it was doing no good for her complexion.

"Oui, je vous remercie," ("Yes, thank you.") France answered, uttering a smile as he glanced up at his mistress, relieved that she was not arguing her head off against the other mistresses. Perhaps it was because she was from a family of high etiquette or such, he did not know, but he sure was grateful for her respective and poised manner.

Francis sighed again as the mistress left, avoiding several mistresses on the floor as they wrestled and tore at each others' hair, while trying to remain as poised as ever. Tick tock, tick tock, down the clock…and it was another three hours before all the mistresses could finally settle down again, each sending death glares at one another, the air filled with high tensions...and toxic wishes.

**HётalїaHётalїaHётalїaHётalїa**

"Ohayougozaimasu, Ojou-san." ("Good morning, young lady.")

"Ohayougozaimasu, Nihon-sama!" ("Good morning, Japan!") a squealing child shouted as she ran towards Japan, her ebony hair flying as she embraced him, the man otherwise known as Honda Kiku swept her up in his arms, as she squealed in surprise and joy, playfully swatting at his shoulder.

"Anata no namae, Miyako, soreha eigo de" utsukushī yoru no ko" o imi shimasu. Kore wa kanpekideari, anata no utsukushī kokutan-iro no kami,-me, soshite, anata no kokoro. ("Your name, Miyako, it means "beautiful night child" in English. It is perfect; your beautiful ebony colored hair, your eyes, and your heart.") Kiku whispered, patting Miyako gently on the back, earning a soft smile from his lovely little niece.

"Domo arigato, Nihon-sama!" ("Thank you, Japan!") the child responded, giggling as she spoke, and attempting to learn English from the nation. "B-boo-tee-fill nee-t che-ld?" her voice stammering, despite her eager and excited form.

"Zen wa doryoku shimasuga, Miyako-san, mōichido yarinaoshite kudasai," ("Good try, but try again, Miyako-san.") Japan smiled, nearly chuckling at her stammers, adoring the child's enthusiasm that used to mirror his own.

_Back when…China was there by his side, teaching him how to use chopsticks, how to train in the martial arts, to cook, fly a kite, sing songs of peace, to dance, **everything**. China was like a father—no, like an older brother to Nihon (Japan), always teaching and never did his smiles falter. He loved those days, days when even their fights would ruin the usual calm peace of the household. But **war**. War had became the inedible fate that crossed their countries. Kiku remembered all he had seen and nothing could cleanse his mind of it, no matter the amount of meditation that he underwent. It was etched deep in his heart, with no escape to it. The cries, the screams, the begs, everything killed all he had felt. He remembered that day. The day when he left and the Yao's amber eyes had begged, pleaded for him to stay. He did not have to say a word and Kiku knew. Because his eyes spoke everything. Both him and Yao had seen the bloodshed, the horror, **everything**. Why did such a world exist if…madness and greed would only come out of it? Buddha was a wise being, so why would he allow such things? Perhaps it was to provide a chance, yes, a chance, for mislead humans to find their way back to their light. Those old days, the days that had passed gone by as quickly as they had came…those days were days of joy, of true happiness, and most of all, they were days filled with love. What he would not give, to return to those old days, and relive once again, to look towards the bright future as if it was the rising sun and spend his days with Yao, just smiling and laughing like he used to. To drink sake and talk about those old days and remember... just remember. If only…he could rewrite their story by his own hand…perhaps they could finally return._

_Just one day, Yao…that is all I ask for. One day so that we may return to the old days; those bright, cheerful days filled with memories of your face. Everything…even to those days when we would bicker on about pandas and anime…How long will we go on about this? Endlessly walking down the same path, with no emotion, just acting monotonic and lying through our lips until we implode with silence? What will happen when time runs out? We will never be able to say all that clouds our heavy hearts…All those years, I've relied on you for support, but now I wish I could be the one to heal your burdens. I care for you, even if I never allow it to reach you, I truly care about you. No matter how my stubborn and reluctant self acts, you will always be my brother and my friend. You are the sun, the moon, the stars…you are the one who arrives by the dawn's light, and the one who leaves by setting sun…_

"NIHON-SAMA!" ("JAPAN!")

"Watashi no shazai Miyako-san. Nani o itta no ka?" ("My apologies Miyako-san. What were you saying?") Kiku answered, surprised by the sudden outburst and refocused his attention on his younger companion.

"Kore wa Nihon-sama ga sore o iu hōhōdesu ka? ("Is this how Nihon-sama says it?") Bee-you-tee-fol nee-igh-t chee-ld?" Miyako-san tried again, smiling brightly she did so. Japan sighed softly, and nodded, gently wrapping his arms around the child. As the wind blew, it was showered him and Miyako with sakura petals from the fine peach trees residing in their grand hōmu ("home"). He smiled again silently, his true emotions hidden deep inside his heart, to which he allowed not to be shown even in the presence of one of his own kin.

"Kyaa, Totemo utsukushī Nihon-sama," ("Kyaa, so beautiful Nihon-sama.") the child exclaimed softly, her eyes staring at the petals as they flew away with awe and joy, her youthful eyes twinkling with amusement. So bright and pure of sin were those eyes, and he remembered all over that he too, had once been as bright and carefree as his lovely young niece was.

"Nihon-sama wa, anata no tame no messēji ga hyōji sa rete iru," ("Japan, there is a message for you.") a new voice, one male and urgent, declared, as it was his messenger who rushed quickly towards him, carrying a well-formatted letter in his arm and bowing hastily.

"Sore wa dare kara no monodearu," ("Who is it from?") Japan asked, his tone distorting to that of a serious and nearly emotionless one. _**Nearly**_.

"Sore wa Ingurando-sama kara no monodearu," ("It is from England-sama,") the messenger announced, nodding as he spoke.

"Arigatō, mō kaette īdesu yo," ("Thank you; you may leave now") Japan spoke in return, bowing back in respect, and the messenger nodded in response, leaving as quickly as he had come. Kiku read the letter in silence, absorbing every word carefully, his chocolate brown eyes interpreting the Englishman's intentions.

"Sore wa Nihon-sama, nan to itte imasu," ("What does it say, Nihon-sama?") Miyako questioned after Kiku finished absorbing the meaning of the text sent to him.

"Taishita koto wanai, Miyako-san. Saki ni iku to asobu," ("Nothing much, Miyako-san. Go ahead and play,") Kiku whispered, as he left, his mind gathering in the information England had sent him. His birthday…surely England must be inviting everyone? If so, then… Chūgoku ("China") will be likely to attend there, no? Kiku sighed, closing his eyes as he thought of his options. If he was to decline such a grand invitation, then England-sama would be not be thrilled, and…the last time he himself had tried to convince England-sama that he did not wish to attend a party of his to witness one of England's "magical invention", England threw a huge tantrum fit which involved a horrible scone eating competition between one another, to which Kiku had lost, and England had forced him to actually lose poise and composure; convinced him to act so…so reckless and preposterous, like-like America-san! Besides, if attending Britain's grand juncture meant that he could see China-san again, then so be it. It had been so long…so long since they had acted like brothers, so long since they'd even seen each other. With their own nations acquiring care and assistance from them, life was a busy road for both. And it had been such a long time since…they were a family. Just the two of them, with no Hong Kong or Taiwan or even Korea. Back when it was only him and China. Because he had been the first to become China's brother. He was the oldest and the one bound to be with China-san the most, so such a longing was not to be mistaken. Even if he wished to neglect England's invitation, England would somehow force him to pay the consequences, and the British man was definitely a man of his word. Unfortunately. _Sono gankona Ingurando ("That stubborn England.")._

**HётalїaHётalїaHётalїaHётalїa**

"Dude, dude, dude, you totally have to check out my new costume! OMG, OMG, it's going to be so awesome! I bought it and it was so, so, so, so cheap thanks to all the credits I earned from shopping at the coolest superhero fan collection store ever! This will be the best party we'll ever have! It'll be fun and we can kick butt and, and play superhero games all night long! What do you think my ego name should be, Mattie? Maybe the Caped Wonder? Or perhaps the Mysterious Comerade? Oh, oh, or maybe the Secret Avenger?! Dude, that'd be totally cool! Imagine if you'd see my logo and name everywhere! On the newspapers, magazines, clothing, posters, and ooh, ooh, maybe even printed on computers and TVs! Then I get to kick villain butt, save the day, rescue the planet from alien invasion, and become a real superhero global man!" America AKA Alfred F. Jones, cheered, grinning happily as he paraded around in his Superman costume, posing heroically in front of Canada AKA Matthew Williams, who was not too thrilled with a parading America stomping noisily, posing, and disturbing his daily reading time with the ruckus. Honestly, it was a surprise they were even friends. Matthew the quiet one, and America, the loud, brash one.

"America! What is the meaning of all this…this disarray? Seriously, I wonder if you've even remember that there is a big event coming up very soon-"

"Whatcha calling a mess, Canada?! What you call a mess is what I call training to be a superhero and an avenger to the rest of the world! Imagine if I'm the talk of the century and then, every nation will be so proud of me! Even you, Canada! This is no mess at all; this is what I call genetically evolving to become the world's first real superhero and-"

"Alfred-"

"Canada, Canada, Canada, Canada, maybe they'll even have my name posted on ice cream! Especially on vanilla ice cream…so delicious! What kind of ice cream do you like, Mattie?! Hell, I'll even be sure to print my name on all of your favorite things and I promise I won't ever leave you guys out and maybe we could all kick villain butt and join together to become the new avengers! Just think about-"

"Wha-? Alfred-"

"Think about it, Canada! If I could be on TV shows and movies, I'd make a fortune! Then maybe I can buy Britain a life's supply of scones just for his enjoyment! Oh, oh, and I'd better not forget to buy a whole shipload of tea for him as well, since the man loves his tea real good! Oh, and buy China a million fluffy pandas, oh, and buy you a roomful of teddy bears, and I do wonder whatever Russia would like…ah well, and buy Italy a huge supply of pasta! Though I do wonder how much he can eat…and I'll be funding you a ten story building that looks exactly like a teddy bear! When I become the Caped Wonder, I'll be sure to buy everyone everything, kick butt, flirt with all the ladies, that's for-"

"About Britain-"

"That guy really loves scones! Seriously, I wonder how many scones he can eat per day. Say if I gave him fifty pounds of it, how long do you think-"

"Alfred!"

"-it would take England to finish all those scones?! I mean, man, it'd take me like years to finish those but knowing Britain, it'd probably only take like, only three days!"

"Li-sten-"

"Oh, and about that big event, do you mean the fact that the new Batman movie are in premiering in theaters like, next week?! Oh my goodness, we totally have to book tickets to-"

"Stop…stop right there, Alfred; enough about the superhero stuff! When I mean the big event, I mean- "

"Or do you mean the big events of that totally super awesome of the Avengers movie?! Dude, I'm totally buying that! I must add that movie to my collection! God, I love this stuff so much! Thor is so awesome; I love how he uses this awesome looking hammer and I love how Ironman was portrayed in the movie, too! Though I do wonder why Spiderman, Batman, and the Wolverine were not in there, though-"

"Alfred F. Jones! Stop parading around and fucking listen!" Matthew Williams shouted, receiving a startled look from Alfred, since Matthew almost _**never**_ raises his voice and he certainly _**never**_ swears, even when he was irritated by him. Canada sighed, panting in annoyance, a huge vein bulging in his head. Now he could see why England had such a strong dislike for America so much. Most of the time anyways. No wonder, for England was in the glory of the great Queen's name, one bred of etiquette, and America…well, he was just…well, America! Talkative, happy-go-lucky, cheerful, impetuous, and what seemed to irritate Britain about America most of all…he simply would not fucking shut up. Which was now seriously pissing Matthew off. Especially since he had been waiting forty minutes for Alfred to shut up.

"Huh? What were you saying Mattie? And…did you just swear?" America asked, confusion evident on his startled face, trying to absorb in the fact that _Matthew_, quiet, meek, and timid Matthew, just swore and shouted at the older nation.

"Did you know that there is a big event coming up concerning Britain?! And yes, I did just cuss, so I could get your fucking attention, which appears to be Gotham City, or whatever shitty city you were fucking daydreaming about!" Canada snapped, crossing his arms as he continued studying America's flabbergasted expression. Just because he _**seemed**_ timid most of the time did not certainly mean that he could not swear…and at a current time of being, Canada was definitely not a man to be messed with, truth be said.

"Hmm…never heard you've cuss before, so this is a surprise. But…nope, I've never heard any type of occurrences that would appear for or in Britain any time soon though. Unless…is Britain planning a surprise sleepover?!" America grinned, smiling dopily as he ran his hand through his messy flaxen hair.

"EEH! Incorrect!" Canada answered, imitating a beeper as he raised an eyebrow, his stubborn arms still crossed.

"Err…he's getting married?" America tried again, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Canada shook his head again, this time, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Oh Mattie, you gotta gimme a clue here! I dunno, he's sick? Got a girlfriend? Became a knight in shining armor? Got yelled at by the queen and kicked out? Did he get a wedgie by a crazy madman or a hobo? Had to dress up as a girl? Became molested by France? Got buffed 'cause of Germany's "Super Fast Slim" exercise and dieting course? Won an award for becoming of the most hotheaded person on Earth? Became a scientist or maybe a magician?! Won a gold medal at the Olympics?! Oh, oh, or maybe he kissed another nation?! Nah, maybe not…oh! Maybe one of his magical experiments backfired and it turned him into a frog! But then again, who'd kiss him back? Oh, maybe he lost 20 pounds?! Lost to a dare and had to eat 10 pounds of pasta 'cause of Italy?! Got drunk and ended up with another dude or dudette and made out with them? 'Cause he's kinda weak about liquor…hmm, I know! He became a winner at a famous worldwide scone eating contest?! 'Cause he can honestly win one if he really wants to, just so-"

"Let me stop you there, Alfred. Hmm? You fucking idiot, he would never go eat at some stupid random scone eating-"

"Ahem!" a crisp voice interrupted, and it nearly sent Matthew over the edge. Matthew turned around and nearly spat at the darn person who would even dare interrupt him during his conversation with the annoying nation, if it were not for the surprisingly close distance the man was standing from him. But it was especially the grand messenger uniform that really threw Matthew off of his tantrum fit. He quickly stopped ranting, and sheepishly mumbled an apology as he turned away, blushing from embarrassment.

"Yo, what is up, Freddie?! Thanks collecting the mail for me! I sure do owe ya one, Fred-dude!" Alfred grinned, as he grabbed the mail from the messenger and shook his hand at a speedy pace.

"There is no problem with that, Mr. Jones, and might I correct you again, sir, for the tenth time, it is Fred, not Freddie. As a polite man, please do understand how to pronounce my name correctly," the messenger Fred declared, and not a hint of amusement nor joy was hinted on his face, even as Alfred was shaking his hand in crazed and flippant manner. He was monotonic, with little emotion shown, unlike Alfred, who was thrilled beyond measure. He then snapped his hand away from Alfred and without another word, left from the messy room.

"No prob, Fred-dude! You know you're Fred-dulously cracking for me!" Alfred shouted, waving goofily. Seeing as Fred had left, Matthew shook his head in annoyance at his companion. Yeah, Alfred was like a brother to Matthew; he knew him well, acted brotherly, and yeah, they even supported each other's backs. But even so, Matthew still could not handle this one part of Alfred. The annoying part of Alfred. But for now, Matthew tried to hold it in, caving his rage deeply as he gritted his teeth angrily.

"Alfred, what I was about to say was that-"

"Mattie! OMG, you have to see this!" Alfred exclaimed, holding up a mail that he had nearly shredded. Cursing silently under his breath and as he gritted his teeth once more, Matthew glumly walked over, eyeing Alfred suspiciously. Hopefully this was not one of his annoying letters or mails again; stupid stuff about Superman or Batman or whatever the fuck. He sighed and skimmed through the letter, refusing to absorb the text. Surely it was of little or no importance. He shrugged and turned, ready to leave and call a cab, when Alfred stopped him. "Mattie, you have to see this! It's important! And-"

"No."

"But Mattie, I'm serious! It's from-"

"Does it look like I give a shit about where-"

"It's from Britain!"

With those words, Matthew froze and after a moment of shock, he slowly turned to Alfred, as a devilish smirk slowly forming. Finally. It came. That which he had been waiting for. That which he had came for, that letter's arrival. Britain. He knew. He knew the whole time. Perfect. Now, it was time to put his plan to action. He was going to force America to go Britain's birthday party, whether he liked it or not. And nothing was going to stand in his way.

"Matthew? What's…don't tell me you're…oh no-" Alfred furrowed, and he knew that whenever innocent Matthew smirked, that that was definitely not a good sign. Not good at all no matter how sweet or innocent it seemed, that was the worst sign he could ever receive.

"Oh, yeah, Alfred. Oh, yeah," Matthew smirked, grinning as he narrowed his eyes at his baffled companion.

******HётalїaHётalїaHётalїaHётalїa**

The glory and beauty in the vast continent of Asia, one whom was grand and well-known, was the great country China. And the man who was the great nation was none other than Yao Wang. Yes, Yao was the man also known as China, hence the name of his country and his land.

The winds softly blew, scattering a vast range of lovely lotus petals into the air. A man, whose appearance spoke of wisdom and peace, and who appeared to be no more than a middle-aged man meditating among the temple of his own home, was full of life, but at the same time, he was also full of age, one which was reflected so calmly in those dark amber eyes. His eyelids were closed, as he practiced tai chi, swiftly moving to the harmonic chimes of the early dawn, his hidden eyes never ceasing to glow with life. The soft wind that blew so gently, cloaking him in warmth and promise, the crimson petals that entangled within his hair, threatening to cling onto him so desperately, the soft chiming of the bells that decorated his home, the soft flutter of the cranes' early flight in the infinite sky, Yao felt it all. So beautiful, so soft, so familiar were all these sights and senses that he could do naught but listen; listen to his heart's content, as an unbeknownst smile was tugging at his lips.

Finally, finally those hidden, mysterious eyes opened up. He released his calm frown and smiled, this time, opening his lips to the melodic melody that never ceased to leave his lips.

_Dao le ming tian shuo hao bu zai jian mian (__When it's tomorrow, we agree not to meet again)__  
Zuo zai jie wei de dian wo yi ge ren dian le bei xiang nian (__Sitting in the shop at the end of the road, I ordered a cup of missing (you))__  
Dao le ming tian zhi neng rang ai ca jian (__When it's tomorrow, we can only let love pass by)__  
Liang ge ren de xiao lian tian lian qian bian cheng fan huang de zhao pian (__Before daybreak, two persons' smiling faces become a yellowed photograph)_

_Shen bian (ji mo zai man yan) (__Around me (loneliness is spreading))__  
Shi xian (bei lei shui mo hu jiao dian) (__Vision (is being blurred by tears))__  
Ba "wo ai ni" liu zai le xin di fang zai le chun bian (__I left "I love you" at the bottom of my heart and put them on the tip of my lips)_

_Dao le ming tian ni jiu li kai wo shen bian (__When it's tomorrow, you will leave my side)__  
Dao le ming tian du zi xiang liu xin xu yuan (__When it's tomorrow, I will wish upon a shooting star alone)__  
Xiang yi chang dian ying de wan jie pian (__Just like the ending of a movie)__  
Wo men de jie ju ying yan lei shui de yu yan (__Our ending fulfilled the prediction of tears)__  
Sui le yi di de nuo yan ping cou bu hui de zuo tian (__Broken promises all over the ground, the yesterday that cannot be pieced together again)__  
Ke wo reng qi dai qi ji hui chu xian, oh no (__But I still look forward to the appearance of a miracle, oh no)__  
Er ni shen ying yue lai yue yuan (__Your shadow is drifting further and further away)_

_Ai hai liu zai wo fang jian (__Love is still lingering in my room)__  
Hui yi hai hen xin xian yi shun jian (__Before the memory becomes real, in a moment)__  
Gan jue ni jiu zai yan qian (__It felt like you were in front of my eyes)_

_Shen bian (ji mo zai man yan) (__Around me (loneliness is spreading))__  
Zhe shi xian (bei lei shui mo hu jiao dian) (__This vision (is being blurred by tears))__  
Yi ju "wo ai ni" shen shen liu zai le xin di fang zai le chun bian (__A sentence "I love you", I left it deep in the bottom of my heart and put it on the tip of my lips)_

_Dao le ming tian ni jiu li kai wo shen bian (__When it's tomorrow, you will leave my side)__  
Dao le ming tian du zi xiang liu xin xu yuan (__When it's tomorrow, I will wish upon a shooting star alone)__Xiang yi chang dian ying de wan jie pian (__Just like the ending of a movie)__  
Wo men de jie ju ying yan lei shui de yu yan (__Our ending fulfilled the prediction of tears)__  
Sui le yi di de nuo yan ping cou bu hu de zuo tian (__Broken promises all over the ground, the yesterday that cannot be pieced together again)__  
Ke wo yi zhi qi dai qi ji hui chu xian, oh no (__But I still look forward to the appearance of a miracle, oh no)__  
Er ni li qu shen ying que yue lai yue yuan (__Your shadow is drifting further and further away)_

_Mei you ni ai kai shi dong mian (__Without you, love starts to hibernate)__  
Gu dan hui zhan ju mei yi tian (__Loneliness will occupy every day) __  
Wo zhan zai lu deng xia mian leng qing de jie bian (__I stand under the streetlight, on the side of the cold street)__  
Na ge ceng xiang yong de di dian (__That place where we once embraced)__  
Shi wo men yi qi duo guo yu de wu yan, oh (__Is the roof under which we once seek shelter from the rain together, oh)_

_Dao le ming tian ni jiu li kai wo shen bian (__When it's tomorrow, you will leave my side)__  
Dao le ming tian du zi xiang liu xin xu yuan (__When it's tomorrow, I will wish upon a shooting star alone)__  
Xiang yi chang dian ying de wan jie pian (__Just like the ending of a movie)__  
Wo men de jie ju ying yan lei shui de yu yan (__Our ending fulfilled the prediction of tears)__  
Sui le yi di de nuo yan ping cou bu hu de zuo tian (__Broken promises all over the ground, the yesterday that cannot be pieced together again)__  
Ke wo reng qi dai qi ji hui chu xian, oh no (__But I keep looking forward to the appearance of a miracle, oh no)_

_Wo yi ran hai huai nian xiang ai de cong qian (__I still reminisce the past when we were in love)__  
Wo yi ran hai deng ni hui dao wo shen bian (__I'm still waiting for you to come back to my side)__  
Lei liu zai wo bing leng de zhen bian (__Tears are falling on the side of my cold pillow)__  
An xia zan ting de shi jian zhi dao ni zai ci chu xian (__I hit pause on time until you appear again)__  
Wu fa cheng shou mei you ni de mei yi tian, oh no (__I cannot stand each of the days without you, oh no)_

_Wo ai ni bu hui gai bian (__I love you, it will not change)__  
Wo ai zhe ni dao yong yuan (__I'll be loving you till eternity)_

After his voice slowly ceased to a stop; after pouring his heart out in those beautiful notes and lyrics, he slowly untangled the petals from his hair, gathering them all together before planting a soft kiss on the very tip, as he outstretched his long, nimble fingers, releasing them into the wind. He watched, watched as they blew so gracefully into the heart of the sky. A wave of raven strands blew in his face, masquerading his gleaming, dark eyes. He whispered, "Wǒ ài nǐ, Rìběn. Zhème duōnián wǒ yīzhí zài děngdài, děngdài, yǐbiàn yǒu yītiān, nǐ huì huílái, wǒmen kěyǐ zài yīqǐ, jiù xiàng wǒmen zǒng shì xíguàn. Yěxǔ wǒ cuòle, yěxǔ wǒ shìgè shǎguā, dàn nǐ shì wǒ de xiōngdì, nǐ què shì zhème duō. Wǒ bù huì fàngqì děngdàizhuó nǐ... Lán, wújìn de tiānkōng xià," (I love you, Japan. So many years I've waited, waited so that one day, you will return, and we can be together, just like we always used to. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm a fool, but...you are my brother, yet you are so much more. I won't give up waiting for you...under this blue, endless sky.") to the wind, exhaling out a soft sigh, as he went ahead onto the town, his thoughts never leaving his lovely, little Nihon (Japan).

"Ah~ Zǎo ān, Xióngmāo!" ("Ah~ Good morning, Panda!") China cheerfully called, waving at the ever-familiar giant figure known as Panda. Panda turned around and gave back a small wave. Yao smiled, remembering his huge love for the pandas that flourished within his beautiful homeland. He didn't know why, whether it was because of their soft fur or their gentle, kind nature, but they were just simply so cute~! Chuckling internally at his eager, childish self, he, grinning, walked with Panda back to his quiet, humble home. Once they arrived, China sat down and smiled at Panda, but his cheerful face softened after several moments of dead silence. "Xióngmāo, zhèxiē tiān, wǒ yīzhí zài xiǎngzhe tā. Rìběn, wǒ cuòguòle zhème duō, shì lí wǒ hěn yuǎn. Tā shì wǒ dí gēgē, hé zhèxiē duōnián méiyǒu tā de guòchéng zhōng, wǒ yǐjīng yìshí dào, wǒ xīwàng tā néng huílái. Rúguǒ wǒ bù zhèyàng zuò, wǒ huì shīqù tāle. Wǒ yǐjīng shīqùle tā yīcì, zài nà chǎng zhànzhēng, bìng zàicì shīqù tā, wǒ yě bù huì jiějué. Jíshǐ tā bù huì yǒu tóngyàng de gǎnjué, wǒ huì yǒngyuǎn—" ("Panda, these days I've been thinking about him. Japan, who I miss so much, is so far away from me. He's my brother, and over the course of these many years without him, I've been realizing that I want him to come back. If I don't do this, I'll lose him again. I've lost him once, during that war, and I won't settle for losing him again. Even if he won't feel the same way, I will always—")

"Rìběn, rìběn, rìběn! Yánzhòng de shì, zhōngguó, dāng nǐ yào tíngzhǐ nǐ de páoxiāo tā? Kěxí, shìtú ràng wǒ jídù suǒyǒu." ("Japan, Japan, Japan! Seriously, China, when are you going to stop with your rant about him? Pity, trying to make me jealous and all.")

China stood up in surprise, his soft eyes averting warily at Panda. He could recognize that thick Russian accent anywhere; there was only one country who knew how to speak Mandarin in such an influent way that even it was recognizable by a clueless and naive South Italy, otherwise known as Feliciano Vargas. But being the kind and calm man he was, he forcefully swallowed down his anger and wariness, hissing, "What are _you _doing here, _Ivan_?"

"Why, you do recognize me, my lovely Asian neighbor! I'm so pleased~! So tell me then, my beautiful Yao, why is _little_ Kiku taking up so much space in that lovely heart of yours?" Ivan chuckled, hesitating at the mention Kiku's name with a slight repugnance to his tone. Ivan removed the huge panda head, revealing his untidy vanilla colored hair, his familiar violet eyes twinkling with mischief, and his smooth, pale skin that reminded all of the world just how beautiful yet so dangerous this Ivan Braginski could be. Then again, Yao was fully aware of that fact, and he wanted little to do with the greedy Russian that was standing there, impersonating his panda friend and who was now invading his privacy. Rudely invading his privacy.

"Kiku is none of your business. Leave, Ivan," Yao growled, not bothering for the formalities and he was nearly snarling at the Russian's comment. How dare this absurd Russian address Kiku in such a manner! Tsk, then again, he shouldn't have expected anything less from this creep otherwise known as Russia.

"Heh, are you cute as always, Yao? Such a pity, a beautiful man like you surely deserves someone of equal status, such as me, no?" he smirked, eyeing Yao with a hungry look. China only pulled out a long sword and aimed the very tip directly at the Russian's nose.

"Are you suggesting that Kiku is not of equal rank as you or me?!" Yao snarled, this time pushing the sword even closer towards Ivan, the sharp blade gently brushing against the Russian's cream-colored skin.

"Do you not think that perhaps he is of little— "

"What do you think you are doing to my future husband, Yao?!" an irritated woman shouted, marching up towards Ivan, flaming violet eyes that echoed Russia's met Yao's dark amber eyes fiercely, daring him to make an additional move.

"Hello, Belarus. My apologies to you, but please, do take care of…Ivan here, would you aru? After all, he did tell me just how much he missed you today, and how desperately in love with you he was," Yao smiled, humor dancing in his eyes as he sent a smirk towards a baffled Russian.

"Wha—"

"Missed me, didn't you?! How dare you go around sneaking behind my back and following China without my consent?! Big Brother, you and I are to be tied together by that red string that binds two people together in nuptials! Not to mention I've been running around all morning trying to find you so you could sign this matrimonial paperwork!" Belarus averted her attention from Yao, this time aiming her death glare at Ivan, whose dreadful expression was undoubtedly manifest.

"Wha-what are you talking about, woman?! I never promised that I'd would ever-"

"YOU WILL MARRY ME, IVAN BRAGINSKI. I WILL DO ALL IN MY POWER TO MAKE YOU MINE. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE MY BIG BROTHER, I DON'T CARE IF YOU OR THE OTHER NATIONS DON'T AGREE WITH ME. I DON'T EVEN CARE IF THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE HIMSELF THREATENED ME TO LET YOU GO. IF YOU DON'T DO AS I SAY, I WILL HAPPILY SKIN YOU AND BRUISE THAT BEAUTIFUL FACE OF YOURS. ARE. WE. CLEAR?" Natalia, also known as Belarus, snarled, this time gripping her steel dagger and aiming its point directly into Russia's right eye. Instead of responding, he meekly nodded, closing his eyes in fright, trying to convince Natalia to spare him from her wrath. He was so, so, so hoping that she would spare him. Surely she would not kill him, right? After all, who would kill their elder brother, especially one that they so desperately loved? Hopefully, just hopefully—

"Not yet, Ivan." And now his hope was abolished with those three words.

"What-what else do you want from me? I will marry you once all our brothers and sisters—"

"Did you not hear me, Big Brother? Not yet," she repeated, this time her tone morphing into a darker, more sinister one. Although Ivan was really grateful for his unique personality, as was inherited from his family; of being a domineering and powerful man who could bring even the most strong-minded person on their knees, but however, there was one huge drawback on having such a distinctive trait that ran throughout his family line. Belarus equally shared his personalities. Once she had her sights on something, she'd never let go, and if it was really eye-catching, she would break someone's bones if they would even dare try to lay a finger on it. Or in this case, on him.

She was now leaning in closer towards his face, not hesitating to compel him to beg for mercy, to desperately accept her marriage proposals despite the consequences and truths. He closed his eyes, whimpering and shaking as her shimmering violet eyes advanced on his, not once halting; more and more sweat beads were forming on his forehead at an escalating velocity. He could feel the warmth and coldness radiating from her presence, his heart racing faster and faster as she leaned in closer and closer—

SMACK!

A letter was thrown in Ivan's face. And with it, a mocking and furious Chinese voice that Ivan anticipated that he would not have heed at the current time and setting. Yet for once, Ivan could not have been more thankful for the interruption, be it even for the fuming Asian man.

"Oops, my bad, _Ivan_. My, my am I sorry for ruining your _lovely_ complexion!" Yao sneered, his amber eyes trickling with fury, despite the slight humor and mockery evidently shown in his voice.

"Hey, Yao! Only I, Belarus, his beloved sister, is ever allowed to ever touch or even clout his porcelain skin, be it how repulsive it may be to you!" Belarus screeched, releasing her death clench on Ivan. Ivan breathed a shaky sigh of relief, and eyed the letter that had cuffed him in the face earlier. Admiring the extraordinary embellishment designed on the letter, he picked it up and slowly opened it, nearly oblivious to the war that was unraveling before his very eyes, with China threatening to blow off Belarus's head with his large pots and pans. Of course, Belarus was clearly not amused by his actions and counteracted.

"How dare you talk like that about my precious brother?! What has he ever done to a simple-minded, puny man like you?!"

"Excuse me, you hotheaded woman, but he has done a lot to me; number one, he broke into my house without my permission, number two, ate my food as if he was no more than a barbarian, number three, insulted my little brother, finally, he posed and pretended to be my best friend 'Panda'!" Yao growled, his hands furiously gripping the handle of a pan, aching to aim it at a certain fuming and _annoying_ woman.

"Yeah, well, 'Panda' isn't your best friend! He isn't even real, you stupid, stubborn—"

"For a woman considering herself smart, you sure don't have any imagination! And apparently, you didn't even listen to—"

"As if I needed to! You and your stupid—"

"If you're calling Kiku stupid, woman, then you and I have another thing coming; I already had enough from your foul-mouthed brother and I don't need anyone else dragging Kiku into this ridiculous brawl, too!"

"Well, too bad, because apparently—"

"H-hey, both of you, I have something to—"

"WHAT?!" Yao and Natalia roared, both penetrating Ivan with their seething glares, to which he gulped loudly, his fingers shaking as he held out the letter.

"U-uh, this letter j-just c-came a-and—" Belarus stomped towards Ivan and tore the letter out of his hand before furiously eyeing the handwriting, leaving a trembling Ivan shaking on the cemented earth.

"WHAT. IS. THIS. CURSE YOU, YOU STUPID, DAMN ENGLISHMAN!" Natalia roared, ripping the letter to shreds, now leaving an enraged Chinese man on the wrath of slapping a certain woman with a large steel pan.

**HётalїaHётalїaHётalїaHётalїa**

"F-faster, Italy! Keep going…you're almost there now…keep going, d-don't stop!"

"B-but, *pant* Germany—"

"I said, don't stop!"

"I-I'm tired, Germany! *pant, pant* W-why be so rough on me—"

"Because you're moving so slow, Italy! P-pick up the pace already and quit running backwards!" a furious German panted as he jogged alongside a hot, sweaty Italian. Who, at the moment, was not thrilled with German's commands. North Italy, or better known as Feliciano Vargas, was now at a jolly attempt at running backwards, just for the fun of annoying the larger built German. Who was clearly not amused.

"I-taly…"

"Okay, okay! I'm running, I'm running…" the smaller man grumbled, pouting as he halted his footsteps to run forward.

"Italy, you agreed to come and do as I say on my 'Buffing and Slimming Diet Program' yet you're slacking off instead of following my orders!" the German shouted, now on the verge of a rant.

"But you should know me; I'm clueless and I'm an Italian, so why would I ever want to do all this hard, hard work? Plus G-ermany, I thought this would all be a piece of cake~!" the Italian chortled, sending a goofy grin towards the German's fuming expression.

"Bah, I shouldn't have kept such high hopes for you…" Ludwig Beilschmidt, or better known as Germany, muttered, slowing his pace as he jogged lightly alongside Feliciano, calming his nerves. He was used to Italy's annoying tactics; they were neighboring countries and the Italian never hesitated to pop by his house occasionally with truckload of pasta. Unfortunately.

"Oh! Hey there, messenger boy~!" Feliciano suddenly exclaimed, interrupting Ludwig's thoughts and before he could reply to the Italian's outburst, he was already trampled over by the smaller man, who was running rather cheerfully towards the messenger. As thrilled as Feliciano was, Ludwig, however, was clearly outraged. Not by Italy, but by the messenger who he specifically warned not to interrupt their training session several hours ago. Even if Feliciano had already ruined the session for him. And he was now gleefully greeting with the 'messenger boy', who hid a slight blush as the Italian gloated him with expressions of joy. Ludwig raised an eyebrow at the scene unraveling before him, trying to piece the odd scenery; his anger nearly forgotten before arising again.

"I-taly."

"Huh? Oh hey, Germany, come and join us! Me and Carlos here were just—"

"Move," the grumbling German snarled, shoving the Italian aside gently as he came face to face with the surprised messenger, who was now trembling slightly under the German's glare.

"A-ah, s-sorry, sir! A m-message from—"

"I don't care who the message was from. Why. Are. You. Here? Did I not tell you not to disturb us?"

"U-uh, yeah, b-but—"

"Leave. Now. Before I fire you from this position." The messenger didn't need to be told twice. Without thinking, he rashly threw a letter into Ludwig's face and fled on his bicycle. Ludwig growled as he watched the boy leave, sweat and fear coating his skin, before tearing the letter open, nearly shredding the soft paper in the careless process. What came next to Feliciano, however, was unexpected.

"WHAT?!"

_And so the message traveled around the world in eighty minutes._

* * *

Credits: Song is Blue Tomorrow by Super Junior M; link cannot be displayed on the document (no clue why) so research on Google if you wish to know full lyrics/translation.

*All foreign languages (not English) are translated using Google Translate. I do apologize if the translations are not correct. Thank you for reading my story! ^^ "Bloopers" may come later during the ends of the chapters of this story; tell me, do you want them or not?


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